


look at my (grand)son(s)!

by mayaschuyler



Series: and you'll blow us all away [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:25:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5800705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayaschuyler/pseuds/mayaschuyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Hamilton and Burr believe their grandsons are geniuses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	look at my (grand)son(s)!

**Author's Note:**

> this is a little bit inspired by the adorable videos lin posts of his son on twitter.
> 
> to prevent confusion, hamilton and burr are the adults. alexander and aaron are the babies.

_"Un."_

 

"Ooo!"

 

 _"_ _Deux_ _."_

 

"Uh!"

 

_"Trois."_

 

"Ah!"

 

"Dad. Seriously? He's eight months old."

 

Hamilton was sprawled on the floor on his back, Aaron sitting on his stomach and bouncing excitedly. The living room looked as if a tornado of blocks and crayons has swept through it. Papers with his father's neat penmanship and scribbled crayon were strewn across the floor. Philip bent down to peer at one, eyebrows knitting together. "Are you trying to teach him how to write?"

 

Hamilton didn't even look up. "You can never start them too early. Isn't that right, Aaron?  _Oui?"_ He pushed himself into a sitting position and lifted the toddler into the air, gently bouncing him as Aaron squealed with excitement. "See, he loves it," Hamilton proudly smiled at the drooling boy in his arms.

 

"He's a baby. He loves everything," Philip retorted easily. He starts attempting to bring back some semblance of order, gathering the scattered pages into a neat pile and putting the colorful blocks back into their plastic case. He spots a bit of scribbled marker on the polished hardwood floor and makes a mental note to scrub it away later.

 

A shrill shriek comes from the other side of the room, and he turns to see Alexander start banging away at the miniature sized piano in the corner, his tiny feet stomping as the tinkling sound of mismatched notes fills the room. Burr leans against the adjacent wall, legs crossed casually, watching quietly as the little boy keeps himself occupied. Philip sees the small smile on his father-in-law's face and swiftly slips his phone out of his pocket to take a quick snapshot and send it to Theo. As an afterthought, he sends it to his mother too, knowing she'll add it to the nearly full photo album she has for the twins. Not even a year old and they've already amassed hundreds, maybe thousands of pictures and other mementos. Philip adores his mother's newfound love for scrapbooking memories, but he's not sure how many packages filled with every thing that twins' have ever laid eyes on he and Theo can take. At this rate, they'll be renting out storage rooms by their first birthday.

 

Hamilton notices Aaron's sharp interest in his brother's noise making and set the boy down, slowly walking him over to the activity in the corner. Both of the twins have been developing wonderfully, but Aaron still chooses to crawl around unless prompted. Their pediatrician mentioned putting him in the walker more to help him get accustomed and strengthen his legs and encouraging him to walk as much as possible. They'd had their fair share of tantrums at first, but after a few weeks, he and Theo were noticing improvements. There also seemed to be a monkey see, monkey do aspect to it; Aaron seeing Alexander stand and walk seemed to prompt him to do the same. Burr attributed it to their brotherly bond; Hamilton said it was because Alexander was a natural born leader.

 

Philip kept his phone out and hit record when Aaron went to stand next to Alexander. His father pushed aside the bouncy chair to sit against the wall adjacent to Burr, watching the twins play together.

 

"Bah!" Alexander slammed his hand down again, a cacophony of notes blaring out. "Dabahmooof!" He hit the keys again before clapping wildly.

 

The three men clapped too, smiling encouragingly. "Alexander, show Aaron how to do it," Burr leaned forward and took Aaron's hand in his own. He placed them gently on the tiny piano keys. "See, just go like this," he pressed the tiny hand down to demonstrate. "You hear it?" Burr did it again a few more times and Alexander joined in, squealing loudly. 

 

"Aaaar," he grabbed Aaron's chubby hand and smashed his brother's fingers on the keys a few times.

 

"Careful," Philip cautioned, still holding the phone but standing a few feet closer. "Be gentle."

 

Hamilton moved now, taking Alexander's tiny hand in his. "Just like this, buddy." He demonstrated as Burr had done, gentle yet firm. "Not too hard." Alexander, looking a bit more thoughtful, tried again with Aaron's hand. "Foo!"

 

The men in the room watched as the two toddlers giggled madly, both trying to outdo the other. They babbled on in what Philip was certain was a secret twin language, both jumping and banging happily. The view of Aaron in his blue onesie, black curls bouncing wildly next to Alexander in a red onesie, his light sandy hair brushing against his shoulders made Philip's heart swell. For as tiring and stressful and unexpected as it could be, fatherhood was still one of the biggest joys in his life. The boys went on for a few more minutes before unceremoniously moving on, their attention spans hitting the limit. Hamilton and Burr applauded wildly despite the abrupt finale and Philip pressed the white button on his phone to stop recording. He heard his father slip into a comfortable chatter with Burr as he quickly opened his conversation with Theo, attaching the video file with a short "little mozarts!" quip.

 

Before he could put his phone away, the beginnings of hungry whines came from behind him. He turned to see Alexander standing at the coffee table trying to reach his sippy cup with no luck. Reaching down easily, he handed it to Alexander, smiling at the tiny "tata" he got in return. Aaron was back to the crayons and paper, wildly waving the green marker around with no finesse. As Philip moved to head back into the kitchen and finish up dinner, his phone buzzed in his hand.

 

**From: Theo**

_they are just adorable. look at them getting along better then their namesakes. we did good, babe ;)_

 

He smiled and went to type out a quick reply before his father's chatter caught his ear. "—Julliard has a great music program for kids. And as much as I hate the man, I bet Jefferson could give us a good recommendation for piano teachers."

 

"Theo began lessons when she was almost three, I'm sure there are tutors willing to see one year olds," Burr chimed in. "Perhaps we could even find a good company that makes miniature grand pianos."

 

Hamilton gasped, an imaginary lightbulb going off over his head. " _Custom-made_ miniature grand pianos. We could have the twins measured so their instrument fits each one perfectly. Of course, it would have to be adjusted quite often since they're growing—"

 

"—but it would be a worthy investment," Burr finished. "Imagine it: twenty years from now Alexander Hamilton-Burr and Aaron Hamilton-Burr, twin prodigies performing at Lincoln Center." There a brief pause as the men fantasize.

 

"Hell, that could be in ten years if we get started now." Hamilton sounded nearly manic. "I'll start doing some research. Philip, you don't mind if I borrow your office, do you?" Before Philip could open his mouth, his father was halfway down the hallway, Burr right behind him, the two men talking excitedly, hands flailing about. Philip bit his lip nervously, not even trying to call out to them. There was no use they got into their "ambitious grandparents" mode. He quickly typed a message back to his wife.

 

**To: Theo**

_i think their namesakes might be getting along a little too well now..._

 

**From: Theo**

_is that a bad thing?_

 

**To: Theo**

_let's just say talk of custom-made miniature pianos occurred._

 

**From: Theo**

_...shit_

**Author's Note:**

> this is what happens when you're bored and snowed in.


End file.
